


to you (i'd give the world)

by amaelamin



Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: Crushes, M/M, Unconfessed Feelings, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-27 16:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7625497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaelamin/pseuds/amaelamin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“for some reason we have to platonically share this bed and there is so much sexual and romantic tension we can barely function and at some point during the night one of us is going to end up spooning the other and we’re going to wake up in the morning an awkward tangle of limbs but we’re both going to pretend to be asleep even though we’re actually awake because we think the other is asleep so we can lie like this for just a few more minutes”</p>
            </blockquote>





	to you (i'd give the world)

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on AFF on 16 nov 2015.

myungsoo is hanging precariously over the edge of the king-sized hotel bed fumbling for the handphone he dropped and sungyeol just watches him out of the corner of his eye from his position against the headboard. myungsoo almost loses his balance once, twice, trying to reach as far as possible until he rights himself with a whoosh of breath, face red and phone held triumphantly in his hand. sungyeol kind of regrets not pushing him off the bed when he had the chance – just one stretch of a leg and a firm push with his foot to myungsoo’s butt and entertainment would have ensued. sungyeol slides his eyes back firmly to the screen of his own phone, drawing his legs up in a manner an onlooker would call almost defensive.

myungsoo spends a moment looking over his phone for any damage, stalling, sungyeol knows. he climbs up the bed to settle on his pillows beside sungyeol once he can’t put it off any longer and then a silence descends. sungyeol _aches_.

he knows why he didn’t push myungsoo off the bed, something so simple he wouldn’t have given a second thought to months ago. he’d have shot his leg out and myungsoo would have landed on the floor with a yell and a thud and then myungsoo would have been on him in a flash, wrestling and pulling and pushing till they were both breathless and giggling.

“we should go to sleep soon,” sungyeol murmurs, thinking of the early call they have the morning after for the concert rehearsal. it’s one of those ‘it’s friday so we must be in japan’ days – or maybe jakarta – days that are starting to run into one another. he can see myungsoo fraying at the edges due to the familiar crystalline fatigue that usually overtakes them this far into a concert tour because for the first time in a long time, he’s looking, really looking at myungsoo. it strikes him as terribly ironic that the only times he gets to see myungsoo anymore, gets to be with him quietly like this is when neither one of them is at home in korea. sungyeol quirks his mouth at this thought and myungsoo stares. myungsoo’s gaze is starved and sungyeol knows the feeling.

they turn off the lights in the room and sungyeol hesitates painfully before reaching down to pull off his shirt. myungsoo turns his head towards him as he hears the rustle of the fabric and stills. sungyeol always sleeps shirtless. myungsoo knows that.

more rustling as they settle down under the comforter, sungyeol stretching his legs out and feeling the muscles in them quiver. myungsoo turns on his side in the dark to face sungyeol, the room suddenly seeming so unbearably intimate in the inky blackness that the ache in sungyeol’s chest begins to bloom. myungsoo is just _there_ , and he realizes he misses myungsoo with an intensity that shocks him so much he tamps down on it fiercely. it makes no sense to miss someone barely an arm’s length away from you; myungsoo is so close he can hear myungsoo breathing in the absolute silence of the room, can feel the tremors in the mattress as myungsoo gets comfortable.

“what the fuck is wrong with the two of you?” sunggyu had complained as they’d wandered around london alone some days – weeks – before. sungyeol had thrown him an annoyed glance because it wasn’t like sunggyu didn’t know them, didn’t know that it was too many individual jobs, one too many texts left unanswered because of work, one too many dinners passed over for cup noodles in the back of a van before rushing out for the next thing until they both had retreated into themselves not knowing what to do with their newfound distance. and he’d bristled at the suggestion in sunggyu’s voice that they were a ‘two’, a unit, an item, either because or despite the fact that it wasn’t true. not the way sungyeol wanted, anyway, but he couldn’t put that into words, even for sunggyu. so he just glared.

sungyeol can feel the soft mattress and bedsheets warming up underneath him, the firmer pillow under his cheek. he can smell the freshly-laundered linen and the general hotel-smell of the room and the carpet.  his body is comfortable, lying on his side, and the comforter feels good against his bare skin. myungsoo is breathing quietly and evenly, a warm lump _just there_. if he stretches out a hand he’ll be able to touch myungsoo’s face.

“goodnight, yeol,” comes the whisper, and sungyeol gets a tiny shock because myungsoo’s eyes are closed but his voice is barely there yet fond, and the yearning inside sungyeol gains a keen edge that hurts. he closes his eyes and tries to find sleep, needing to sleep but so hyper-aware of the person lying next to him he wonders if there is even a point to trying.

“goodnight.” _i miss you_.

*

when the alarm goes off it jackhammers into sungyeol’s consciousness unforgivingly and his vision is bleary when he finally opens his eyes. the room is still pitch-dark, and myungsoo – sungyeol’s heart tries to both start to pound as well as stop completely, because myungsoo is still fast asleep right up against him, tucked tight against his side with a careless arm resting over sungyeol’s bare chest and their legs entangled in some complicated way. it’s uncomfortable as hell, and sungyeol wonders how come he didn’t wake up earlier to save his right arm gone numb under myungsoo’s shoulders or extricate himself from myungsoo’s octopus legs, but – but. myungsoo is warm, and he’s sleepsoft, and sungyeol kind of hates himself a bit but he lowers his face into myungsoo’s hair and breathes deep. his heart makes up its mind and decides that pounding hard is the way to go.

somehow during the night this wonderful thing had happened, but his alarm is still going off. myungsoo sleeps like the dead but even he isn’t immune to the shrill nagging of the phone, and he’s going to wake up soon and they’ll stutter and jump apart and get all embarrassed and things will get even worse between them – sungyeol shuts his eyes tight and pretends to still be asleep. it’s the only logical solution; he gets to have a few more moments with myungsoo like this, and when myungsoo wakes up he’ll be spared the embarrassment of the both of them knowing how they’d woken up and he can –

myungsoo shifts in sungyeol’s arms, making involuntary sleep noises, and sungyeol makes sure to be as convincingly unconscious as he can possibly be. myungsoo stills abruptly then, and sungyeol can tell he’s figured out what’s happened, just as sungyeol had a few minutes earlier. sungyeol wonders what it would be like to wake up every morning like this, warm, sleepy myungsoo in his arms and in his bed. the aching returns full force.

myungsoo tries to turn onto his back, excruciatingly slow so as not to wake sungyeol – haha, joke’s on you, sungyeol thinks childishly – but stills again. the next thing sungyeol feels are featherlight strokes of myungsoo’s fingers over his cheek and lips, and myungsoo going small in his arms like he’s just sighed deeply. myungsoo doesn’t move for a beat – then two, three, four, five – then carefully moves away and sits up, gently sliding one of sungyeol’s legs off him.

they both go through the motions of waking up, sungyeol trying to scrub down his hair which he knows must be standing up every which way and not able to concentrate on anything but the ghost feeling of myungsoo’s fingers on his skin and what it felt like to wake up next to myungsoo’s warm, slowly breathing body. the sun is not even up yet when they stumble out of their room to join dongwoo and sungjong in the corridor, but sungyeol stays near myungsoo, walking together. myungsoo begins talking to him in a low murmur about something – and sungyeol is listening to his voice rather than the words he’s saying, because there’s a tenderness and intimacy in it for him he hasn’t heard for too long. their fingers brush in the elevator and sungyeol doesn’t move his hand away.

neither does myungsoo.


End file.
